Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him.
Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair.
Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach.
Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!
anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)
Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them
but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you
but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though
kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment
it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you
there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other
he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach
he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”
and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them
and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man
he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully
and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…
a man of action deserves rest
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Hey, there! I have a BoB headcanons request that is a bit angsty/heavy so if you don’t feel like doing it, I completely understand! I was just wondering how the easy boys would go about trying to comfort a reader with guilt/trauma from either killing a German soldier (like Winters when he shoots that one SS soldier) or not being able to save a fellow soldier if you’d like to go the nurse route. I’d just love some Winters and Eugene comfort!! Thank you!🫶
Heyyy so sorry for the slow reply!! Thank you, this is such a good request!!! I’ve combined both your ideas for the diff guys- I hope you enjoy!
Tw - talks of death, guilt, trauma, ptsd, war, etc.
BoB Headcanons - How they comfort you
Eugene Roe:
As a fellow medic, Gene understands completely what you’re doing when you start shutting yourself away.
After leaving Bastogne you didn’t actually think things could get much worse, but when you lose Jackson in the dingy basement in the middle of Haguenau - let’s just say you don’t take it well.
“It woulda’ happened anyway… it’s not your fault.” Gene would remind.
You’d sigh with a heavy heart and attempt to leave any kind of confrontation.
“Gene you weren’t the one assigned to take care of them. He died under my watch, I didn’t do good enough.”
Not only are you heavily burdened by Jackson’s death, but you’re also exhausted and cold and hungry. Gene at first would watch from afar with a furrow between his brow until enough was enough and he confronted you.
He’d find a way to pull you back in, he’d wrap blankets around your shoulders when you’re just sat staring into space. Or he’d force Hershey bars into your pocket, practically begging you to eat.
“It’s my fault.” You’d tell him.
Gene just takes the honest route, he knows that’s better than blatantly trying to soften the blow with anything else.
“Jackson woulda died anyway. I saw what happened and… you could’ve tried everything n’ he wouldn’t have made it…”
If you need him to go into technical medical talk he would. He’d do anything, he’s the type of guy to sit talking with you for hours.
Huge empathetic so cannot stand the idea of you being troubled by this or taking the blame.
If the two of you aren’t already together then he’s a little more careful to not overstep boundaries, but he 1000% keeps the blanket wrapped over your shoulders in place by holding it there with an arm over you. Even if his hand is freezing.
Dick Winters:
It maybe happens around Bastogne? You happen to fire at the Germans and when you guys go look after, one of them is just a kid.
Let’s say he’s nowhere near older than twenty, still in his teens, and you’re absolutely horrified from the second you find this out.
It makes you freak tf out and the men bundle you back to the line pretty fast, they all know what it feels like, that guilt ravishing them alive. And Winters especially understands the exact thing you’ve been through.
I feel like he’d find out pretty fast, the two of you are in a private relationship that can’t be openly shown out on the field.
He’d take a sensible approach, despite being oh so worried.
Has you come sit in his and Lewis’ tent at CP.
Would offer you a drink, food, another coat, new boots, worries that you need feminine products? Idk the man just wants to take care of u ok.
When it comes to it and you say no to everything he simply sits besides you and just looks over your face.
Then he opens up about Holland and how he shot another soldier, just a kid. It’s relatable and the feelings he talks about are exactly what you’re experiencing.
If you get upset he can’t engulf you into the hug he wants, but he deffo squeezes you with an arm around you, encouraging you to know this isn’t your fault.
Extremely mindful of you for the following days after. If you wanna go off the line then he does that, if you wanna go for a walk then he makes somebody’s with you at all times.
Super super emotionally intelligent and would support you through anything.
Joe Liebgott:
Probs walks into the quiet aid station all loud mouthed and hollering about something irrelevant. He knew you were on shift tonight with one other nurse who’s occupied upstairs in the building. Your arrival in Austria luckily called for a lot less gruesome wounds and gory deaths- but every now and then, someone slipped through your fingers.
Your head snaps up, away from the patient who lay still before you. Your eyes are full of tears and at the sight of Joe, you begin to sob.
“What is it-” immediately goes to run forwards, but then he clicks when he noticed the bloodied man below you. Your hands are covered in crimson, trembling and it’s smeared all over your uniform.
Realises pretty quick what’s happened.
“I couldn’t save him, Joe.” You wept. “Nobody came to help.”
Understandably Joes first reaction is to throw a fit that nobody else was here to help you- but then he takes in your broken expression once more and remembers where they were. Things like this just happened out here.
“Okay, baby.” He’d sooth, approaching you as carefully as possible. He’d take your hands in his and meet your gaze. “Let me help you.”
You can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be the biggest sweetheart ever?
He’d wash your hands for you, rubbing his thumb gently over each patch of skin, then he’d get help from another medic, a little pissed that nobody came to help. After that he’d tell whoever’s in charge you’re done off shift and take you back to your room (screw fraternisation rules, Joe doesn’t follow them, not when it comes to you).
He’d pretty soon find out that the guy on the table had a burst artery, whilst he’s undressing you from your stained uniform, he’d tut to himself gently.
“Somethin’ like that happens n’ they’re gone. There wasn’t anything you coulda’ done.”
“No but- I could’ve tried! If somebody helped then I could’ve done it! We’re not in Bastogne anymore I should’ve been able to help!”
“Y/n, you know you can’t think like that.”
Wouldn’t allow it for a second that you blamed yourself, it physically pains him that you’re sobbing and shaking, Joe holds you close and just lets you get it all out, feeling pretty revengeful for whoever left you alone that night.
“It’s all my fault, Joe…”
“No… no, sweetheart. C’mere, the guy was a dead man the second he got hit..”
The best with comforting you with words, if he needs to be a little harsh to get it through to you that it’s not your fault he will- but he won’t allow it for a second that you take any form of blame for this.
It hurts him to know it’s hurting you.
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Gentle reminder - reblog!
Hi everyone!
Not sure if you've been keeping up with all the changes that keep happening on tumblr, but every single time this website and company is acquired by someone new, they try their best to turn it into another facebook, or instagram, or tiktok, or whatever the cool new social media platform is. It's a fundamental misunderstanding of how this platform works and the benefit of the anonymity and workings of the unique algorithm. But every single time, they've tried. First when yahoo got it, then when it went to verizon, and then when they sold it to automattic. Now with the death of tumblr live, they're trying to do another rebrand.
Tumblr is one of the few remaining online spaces where we get the opportunity to truly curate our online space, and share and experience things in a way that can't be capitalised on. The concept of a tumblr influencer doesn't exist, because there's no advantage of it, there's no benefit of being an 'influencer'. But the only way we can keep this website around, is to keep using it as the way it was originally intended, in the way that other websites have not worked.
Likes on tumblr are not the same as likes on instagram or youtube, they don't really do anything! They don't help the creator, they don't help promote the post itself in any meaningful way, it's just a way to safekeep it for yourself later. And while that's a totally valid reason to want to like something, just as a reminder of something and a way to revisit a post later in the future, I would highly encourage everyone to try and reblog things as well!! Whether it's art of your favourite ship, whether it's a gifset of your favourite onscreen couple, whether it's a meta around a certain show, or whether it's discussions of the latest major current news event, the only way to truly circulate it and create a positive impact is by reblogging! The more people that get to see any given post, the better.
As an example, KOSA is becoming a thing again, and we're all being encouraged to act against it. I wouldn't have found out about KOSA if someone I follow hadn't reblogged it first, and then i reblogged it again. KOSA is one thing that could impact our online experience DRASTICALLY, and it's imperative that we spread the word about it - forewarned is forearmed, and only when we know about it can we take action against it, right?
I'm not saying this to try and promote this blog at all. I won't lie and say a few more reblogs on this blog here and there wouldn't be nice, but frankly at the end of the day my blog contributes little to nothing to the larger fandom discourse in the grand scheme of things. I'm saying this for everyone else out there. If you want tumblr to survive and thrive as our internet experience continues to evolve in the coming decade, keep using it as much as you can! Reblog anything and everything you can! Your one singular reblog can have a butterfly effect on a post. When you just like, the movement of the post stops there.
And tying into my blog (sorry lads, i'm only human and have to make it a little relevant for me as well 😭), if there's one type of post on the website you encounter anywhere that I strongly recommend you reblog, it's a poll. A poll only serves it's function if it reaches people who can actually vote on it, and we can only get a true reflection of the views of the masses when the most number of people get to participate in it. That's democracy, babey!
Anyways, that's my biannual rant. Back to your regularly scheduled programming, and see you in 6 months for the next big rant!
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